Waiting For Superman
by platarozaluna
Summary: The aftermath of Lewis's attack leaves Olivia with more to work through than she ever imagined, as well as an unexpected surprise. She's waiting for someone to make it all okay-will that someone be Cassidy, or her old partner, Elliot? R&R.
1. Chapter 1: Trapped

~ -"See Spot Run. Run. Run, Spot, Run."

-"Very good, Eli." Elliot ruffled his youngest son's curly blonde hair and flipped to the next page of the book.

-"It's getting late, El." Kathy was standing over the couch in a night dress and robe, wet hair clinging to her shoulders. She indicated to the TV, which had begun to play the theme music for the 11 o'clock news.

-"We're just going to finish the book, Kath. Remember what his teacher said: consistency. A story a night."

"_No news yet on the whereabouts of kidnapped decorated NYPD detective—"_

Kathy picked up the remote and turned off the TV. "Didn't I say turn it off? It's not good for him to hear all that, he's too young." ~

**2 Days Later…**

~ He was in the park, running, when his phone rang. It was still early enough in the morning that his sneakers were peppered with fresh dew drops and that, aside from the occasional teen catching a jog before class or the young mother pushing a stroller, he had the trails to himself. The sun was slowly rising between the trees and casting a pinkish glow in Elliot's features as his phone continued to ring and his caller id flashed a number he didn't recognize.

-"Stabler," he answered hesitantly.

…For the last two years since his retirement from NYPD, he'd existed in a sort of cream-thick haze forming a cocoon from which emerged this New Man image, a stay-at-home Dad who packed lunches and ran carpools and helped his youngest child read "Dick and Jane." Who jogged every morning in a track suit, drank Starbucks coffee and watched the culinary networks. Aside from those from telemarketers, he hadn't received a phone call from an unfamiliar number in over two years.

-"Stabler? It's Cassidy. You've gotta help me find her." ~

**Another 2 Days Later…**

~ Somewhere in the depths of her mind, Olivia heard screaming. It was as though, lying there on the floor, time had stopped. Any call to reason, to her fifteen years of experience as an NYPD detective, had slipped between the cracks of that splintered hardwood floor, leaving nothing for her to hold to, but pure sensory perception. She heard herself screaming as he pushed himself deeper inside her, thrusting up and dowm, up and down. No. No. No. No.

Her heart began to beat rapidly against her chest. Up and down. Up and down.

More screaming.

A lingering smell of burning flesh, not as bad as she'd expected it to be…_the embers of that first cigarette make contact with the exposed flesh of her forearm and Lewis draws a heart—an initial sting, and then numbness. He holds the cigarette there at the point of the heart for what seems like hours, letting a pool of ashes puddle and drop one by one onto her thighs as the heart blisters over with thin white bubbles. Olivia bites down on the inside of her lip and tastes her own blood so fine and viscous compared to the blood she felt congealed and gluing her shoulders to the floor which, very slowly, grew hotter._

-It is said that tears and blood have similar chemical concentrations, so, when tasting both at once, it is impossible to tell the difference. Tears contain a chemical called leucine encephalin, a natural painkiller, to make you feel better.

_-"What do you want?"_

_ -"What every guy wants, and you're gonna give it to me."_

She was back at Sealview. Harris and Lewis were taking turns. NO! NO! NO! NO! She didn't know if she was actually screaming or if it was all in her head.

And then there was her old partner, Elliot. Elliot who left her, had come back for her. He was going to kill this piece of shit—break his arms, his legs, his face—but suddenly, Lewis had a gun in Elliot's mouth. Elliot, who morphed into Brian, who morphed to Nick, who morphed to Fin. Amanda. Munch. Cragen. Alex. Casey. Barba…and back to Elliot again.

"No!" Olivia began to scream, she was sure of it this time. She curled herself into a tight ball, dug her fingernails into the floor, and just screamed.

-_"Manhattan SVU to Portable. Call a bus!"_

_ -"Liv! Olivia! Wake up for me, okay? It's Nick. I've got you and we're going to get you out of here…"_

She felt a pair of arms grab her around the middle and then she felt herself struggling to get them off. A cool breeze whipped her matted hair across her face as the arms carried her into the sunlight and then, once again, into cold, confined nothingness.


	2. Chapter 2: The Promise

**Waiting For Superman Chapter 2: The Promise**

~ It was all a bad dream. A very very bad dream from which he'd soon wake up, at home in his bed, unknowing that any of this had happened. Or hell, he'd wake up two years ago unknowing that he was ever going to leave SVU, leave her, completely unprotected. Presently, he was sitting in the passenger seat of Cassidy's patrol car holding a lukewarm cup of coffee in a vice grip.

4 days. 4 days, he'd held her hostage, tortured her. Burned her with cigarettes. Branded her with hot iron. Beat her. Cut her. Made her bleed. And that was just what they knew from the crime scene. No…not the crime scene, Liv's apartment…no, the crime scene. He didn't know which choice of words would make him feel better. He didn't want to think of her as a victim, but it did make it easier. He didn't get nauseated when thinking about that type of work, at least, not usually—he'd conditioned himself for that much after years of prolonged exposure to those crimes every single day.

But it was different with Olivia. Different because he knew how she would have felt, knew how she would have reacted, as closely as if it were himself experiencing the same sensations. And with Olivia, came the knowledge that this crime alone, could have been solely prevented had he been there, because he would have driven her home after a case like that, waited for her to flash her lights, maybe even walked her inside and talked with her awhile. If he hadn't heard from her for a single day, let alone two, he'd have been up there.

_-"Does Lewis let his victims live?"_

_ -"No, not always…"_

He cracked the window, now in serious danger of either getting sick or punching out Cassidy's dashboard. He played through everything he'd learned so far in his head.

…_The SVU caught a seemingly easy case. A simple indecent exposure. A man flashed his dick to a couple of foreign tourist girls in Central Park and a nature photographer witnessed the incident. But something seemed off—when one of the new detectives, Amanda Rollins, brought him in, they couldn't run his fingerprints because he'd burned them off his fingers—a 'kitchen incident,' he'd said…They couldn't find an identity, a history, anything…_

-"Take me to the apartment," Elliot ordered.

-"It's a crime scene, Stabler. You're a civilian."

-"Take me to the apartment, Cassidy," he repeated.

-"I don't know what you think you're going to find…CSU's been over that place with a fine tooth comb. Anything further is just wasting time."

-" Take me, or I'm walking."

…_He raped and brutalized the elderly witness, the nature photographer. For two days, he beat her, breaking her ribs. He burned her with the handles of clothes hangers. Did things to her that she never could have fathomed a human being would do to another. Left her for dead. Which, after only a few days, she was, of a heart attack from the shock, fear and shame…No witness. Tourists back home overseas. Charges dropped…_

He didn't know what he was expecting to find in her apartment, or even, if it was a good idea for either he or Cassidy to be there—they needed to be out finding her—but Elliot needed to know, to see for himself what Lewis was capable of. At least, that was what he told Cassidy. In reality, he needed to see what she'd been through, put himself there, understand. Had she put up a fight? Had she even been able to? Had she been scared? Did she expect someone to be there, saving her? Did she want it to be him?

He couldn't get all or any of this from a room, he knew, but right now, it was all he had.

…Familiar streets. Familiar buildings…Almost there now.

…_After they finally found him in the system, the detectives had almost wished they hadn't. William Lewis had a record, alright. A string of graphic rapes and murders across different states under different names—each time, having me some brilliant stroke of luck leading him down a path of mistrials and dropped charges. The charges had just been dropped this last time, too. Olivia would have been upset. Olivia would have felt betrayed by a justice system that let another of Lewis's victims go unavenged—like her life didn't matter and Lewis's did. The other detectives would have asked her to go for a round of drinks with them, but Olivia would have respectfully declined and said she was tired and needed to go home and get some rest. They would have let her go…_

Cassidy pulled the car to a stop outside Olivia's building and just idled there.

-"I'm not going in. I've seen enough of it to make me sick. Here's the key—"

-"I have a key, thanks," Elliot grunted at Cassidy's cowardly squeamishness in the face of true policework, the same squeamishness that had caused him to leave SVU ten years ago. He still couldn't grow a pair, not even for her.

-"Really, Stabler. It's like nothing you've ever seen before," Cassidy said, softening his stoic expression.

-"I've seen a lot," Elliot replied.

-"Not like this. It's different. You'll see it—taped off like any other crime scene, but you won't be able to get her out of your head."

He didn't want Cassidy to be right, Elliot thought as he made his way down Olivia's hallway. He didn't want Cassidy to be right for so many more reasons than not wanting Cassidy to be right. He always thought it cliché, in those horror movies Kathleen and Lizzie always liked to watch, when characters described feeling like their blood had frozen, but he had no other words to describe the sensation he felt when he turned the key in Olivia's lock and opened her front door. It was a chill that made its way down his spine and eventually settled right in his gut, like he'd swallowed a ball of ice whole.

The crime scene tape formed an archaeological dig site boundary around her…the…living room furniture. Coffee table upturned. Cigarette butts. Clouds of gray ashes streaking the carpet. Haunting blood stains led into the bedroom, where a frying pan and a bent coat hanger rested at the foot of the empty bed frame. No blanket, no sheets, no mattress. Elliot leaned against the bedroom wall, massaging his temples furiously with his index fingers. It wasn't anything he hadn't seen before, but he kept looking up, expecting her to be there, vowing to catch the sick prick that did this. He'd never investigated a crime scene without Olivia. But he still hadn't. She was still here. He felt her everywhere. Her ghost, watching him from every doorway—phantom images of Olivia wherever he looked—bleeding out on the carpet, screaming for him to save her, screaming at him that he promised, sprawled across her bed, tied down and—No. She wasn't a ghost anywhere. She was alive. She had to be. It wasn't even a question, she was alive. Olivia would never give up, she'd promised. But he'd been there, then. He'd vowed to protect her and he'd failed. Would it be so unrealistic to believe she may have failed, too? No.

He could feel himself beginning to falter and willed himself to get up and face it. He was here for her—if she could face it, he had to. No one knew Olivia like he did—if she'd left some sort of clue (which she would have)—he'd be the one to find it. The crime scene investigators would have took to this crime scene like any other, neglecting to realize that Olivia wasn't a victim and nothing, not even Lewis, would ever change that.

He started with the most unnatural thing in the room—the pot. Most likely Liv's defense weapon, but why had he been told that the blood on it was Olivia's? Had he been told that?

-"So, he attacked her in her kitchen, unsuspected. He was already in the apartment when she came home. She raised the first thing she could grab, which was the pot, but he got it from her and hit her with it, she fell—that's the first bloodstain…then he—"

-"Stabler, what are you doing? CSU's told us everything already."

-"They must have missed something, she must have—"

-"Get over yourself. I called you to help me find her, but you need to accept that maybe you don't know Liv as well as maybe you used to. You gave up that connection when you left her."

-"Shut the hell up, Cassidy. This isn't about you or me or the past or anything but Olivia," Elliot growled, but he couldn't help the prickle of guilt—what if Cassidy was right? What if he had no place being here at all, standing beside these people who'd been there to take care of Olivia in the wake of his broken promise? They were pulling away from the curb when Cassidy's phone rang.

Elliot finished the last of his now cold (though it hadn't been too good to begin with) coffee and crumpled the cup in his hands as he stared out the window, still expecting her, any minute now, to come out of her building and get in the back seat, complaining about Elliot getting shotgun.

That was when he realized—he had no idea what she looked like anymore. The images of her in his mind were outdated, Liv of two years ago, and even those were frayed around the edges. He couldn't find her, he'd never find her…because it wasn't Olivia he was looking for, it was a memory he could never get back.

Cassidy hung up his phone and started the car. He was smiling, something Elliot couldn't remember seeing Cassidy, another ghost, ever do.

-"They catch a lead?" Elliot asked. Cassidy nodded.

-"Better. They found her."


	3. Chapter 3: Whitewashed Loneliness

**Waiting For Superman Chapter 3:**

**A/N: I know this story isn't very sappy or anything (YET! :P) but I have big plans for this story and don't want to rush into anything unnatural. Olivia (as she was in the episode) wouldn't want to break down or cuddle or anything (again, yet) she'd want to try to prove her strength/that she's not a victim. I've completed the story outline—looks like it's going to be about 20-some chapters with maybe a sequel. R&R +Follow if you're in it for the long haul **

~ A streak of lightning…no, bright light, blinding. She squeezed her eyes shut, rolled onto her side and winced at the sudden rush of pain. An extended hand pressed her back flat onto the hard, firm surface. At this sudden touch, Olivia jerked into conscious awareness, suddenly feeling her heart start to pound very quickly against her chest.

-"Don't touch me," she hissed, before she realized it was a very stung-looking Brian Cassidy staring back at her. "Br…Bri?"

-"Right here, baby. It's okay. You're okay. It's over." He moved forward as though to extend a hand again, but Olivia felt herself shrink back.

-"What do you mean? Everything's fine. I'm fine. I'd like to go home," she replied.

-"You're in the hospital, Liv. You're gonna have to stay here for another day or two, just so they can make sure you're alright." She hated the way he was looking at her—with pity, like she was helpless, like she didn't know her own best interests, like she was a…a victim. She knew they were coming—the questions, and she wished he'd just ask them. He was walking on eggshells and acting like she didn't know what was going on and this frustrated her immensely.

-"Bri, I want to go home now," she said firmly. He frowned.

-"It's not my decision, Olivia." She opened her mouth to snap at him, but instantly thought better of it and instead, softened her gaze. After all, he hadn't done anything wrong—he was only doing what came naturally, what they'd all been trained to do.

-"I'm sorry. I'm just frustrated."

-"It's okay. You have every right to be." She'd known that was coming, but really she'd opened that door herself. But who was he to know what to say and not to say? This complimenting, sappy Cassidy was the issue here, she reasoned. It was strange…unfamiliar, and not in a good way. Why couldn't he just be himself? Because he'd come in here today with a plan in place for the job he'd told himself he had to do—crawl in bed with her and hold her and kiss her and tell her it was going to be okay, as if the whole thing was just a bad dream a little no-holdbacks affection might be able to take away.

Because this was what people did to those they thought of as victims—they called upon their own victimizations and caved to their own needs, their guilt that whatever happened was somehow their fault because it didn't happen to them, while simultaneously feeling relieved that it didn't. Then, they'd treat it like a skinned knee—a kiss, a bandaid over the wounds, the scars, and then they wouldn't have to see them anymore. They can't understand, so all they can do is try to get things back to normal as soon as possible, which, actually, makes sense given that in many cases, that's all the 'victims' want, too. Human instinct, just executed poorly. And really, who was she to fault Brian for that?

-"Hey you, c'mere." She shifted over to the other side of the bed and gestured for him to fill the now open space beside her. Cassidy looked at her a bit questioningly for a minute in a way that made her uncomfortable to see—she hated hat he was afraid or on edge about being with her now. Like she was some monster he was afraid of setting off, like he didn't know how to be with her anymore. Nothing was different, but everything was. Thankfully, he must have cast aside his doubts, because he threw on a smile and climbed into the little bed, wrapping her in his arms and resting his head against her shoulder.

Olivia ran her fingers through his dark hair and kissed the top of his head.

-"I'll admit, you scared me, Liv. I was afraid we'd never do this again."

-"For a while there, so was I," she replied softly.

-"It was like…I'd go to bed at night, but I couldn't sleep. You were consuming me whole. I'd try to take a couple drinks just to catch an hour or two…but the nightmares…"he trailed off.

-"Sshh…"Olivia whispered and kissed his forehead again. "It's okay, babe. It's over. I'm right here. I'm okay…" And after a short while, he fell asleep against her like that and she kept a hand in the center of his back to feel his smooth, even breathing.

_I'm doing this for him…_Olivia kept intoning to herself, but she couldn't pretend it didn't feel good to have him right there, holding on to her as he was—the silent resolve: 'you're safe now. You're safe and no one will hurt you again.' ~

~ -"You can go see her now if you want, Stabler. I'm gonna bring up some sandwiches. She's already had her fill of hospital food," Cassidy gestured to the ICU door with his car keys.

Elliot nodded, though kept his line of vision rooted firmly to the floor. He knew he wanted to be gone by the time the other detectives returned at the end of the work day—so far, only Cassidy knew he was here at all. Kathy had already called three time bugging him to be home by dinner because Dickie had a science project—but he allowed himself ten minutes. He pressed the red buzzer and the ICU's doors spread open before him and then just as quickly, snapped shut behind him, as though willing him forward.

_…There's no turning back now…_

His walk seemed to take an eon, perhaps because no matter his walking pace, he couldn't escape the sound of the machines—EKGs, respirators—vital life support that after so many years on the force, so many victims, brought with it the sound of the death, of that strange in-between line between death and life.

Elliot vaguely remembered coming to a hospital ICU to visit his grandmother when he was about seven or eight years old and she lay dying of ovarian cancer. All these years later, and he still remembered the smell of the fresh bleach.

-"They have to clean the rooms after they take somebody out to get them ready for the next people." At eight, he'd assumed his aunt had meant after the people occupying the rooms got better and went home.

But his dad had quickly set him straight: "No one leaves her standing, boy. Once you get here, it's the end of the line."

And he remembered what the nurse had said not minutes after he'd said goodbye to his grandmother—"I need housekeeping up here. The patient has expired." Expired…like gone bad? Expired…like sour milk?

He shook his head of the thought. This was different. Olivia was going to be okay; she was going to walk out of here.

When he reached her room, he paused for a moment to study the cold, metal-plated number fastened to the door—307, then swallowed a sharp intake of breath and pushed it open.

It wasn't as bad as he'd expected. He'd seen Olivia in the hospital before, so the immediate shock factor wasn't there as it'd been at her apartment. She actually looked quite peaceful—she was sleeping, presumably from all the medicine they'd put her on (mainly for shock). They'd wanted her to rest so that her body, and her spirit, would begin to heal. Her legs were folded to one side and her head was curled into her hands.

He approached her quietly and sat down on the edge of the bed as not to wake her. Very gently, he brushed a few strands of long brown hair out of her face, letting them fall to her shoulders.

It was comforting to see her like this, but it was a twisted comfort, knowing the long road she had ahead of her. Her rape kit had been positive for fluids and this, he knew, would linger in her mind far longer than even the kidnap and torture, and would leave scars deeper than any of the cuts or burns.

But she had a team of support behind her to help her, to bring her back up. She had Fin and Munch, she had the Captain, she had Detective Rollins, she had her new partner, who hadn't left her, and as much as it pained him to say it, she had Cassidy. All were people who would be there as they had been in his absence.

There was nothing he could give or offer her that she didn't already have. In fact, he'd probably hurt her recovery by opening old wounds. Old, because that's what they were, because that's what he was.

_Old (adj.)—stale, no longer needed_

It was simple. He no longer had a place here, to stand by them all in her eyes, not after what he'd done. He shouldn't have come here, he reasoned. And with that resolve fresh in his head, Elliot traced the outline of her jaw once with the side pad of his thumb, and then left her to her peaceful sleep, maybe her last for a long while.

He slipped out the rear exit of the hospital and into the waiting taxi cab without attracting anyone's attention. ~

~ Sometime in the middle of the night, Olivia woke up, disoriented and shaking. Her movement triggered the light above her to click on, beaming the room—with its white walls, white floor tiles, white tables, white chairs—in streaks of white light, the sterility of solitude.

Olivia had never liked hospitals, and here, in the bright openness of this white room, she felt vulnerable and exposed. Nowhere to run, nowhere to hide when he came back, and he would come back…she thrashed wildly until she managed to free herself from the IV and the wires of the heart monitor, but she couldn't get out, she couldn't get out of the bed.

-"No…," she whispered, suddenly realizing where she actually was—in a hospital bed in a white room, tangled in a bundle of white sheets. It was okay. No one was there. Lewis was gone, gone to rot in prison.

As she caught her breath, a new trickle of fear shook Olivia—what if she was like this forever? What if she'd never be her old self again?

And just like that, trapped in that sea of unending white, where no one could see her, yet everyone could, Olivia Benson broke down and cried.


	4. Chapter 4: Gravity

**Waiting For Superman Chapter Four: Gravity**

**Author's Note: Sorry guys! I've had midterms all week and I've just made it out (mostly) alive! Thanks so much for all your follows, favorites and reviews. Here's Chapter 4. I'm trying to stay as true to the storyline as I can to make my original content seem as realistic as it can. Last kind of fillerish chapter before the story really picks up! As always, I'm a writer—I thrive off of your follows, favorites and reviews, so lemme know what you think and I'll try to get Chapter 5 up as soon as I can! **

** With love, **

** ~platarozaluna~**

**~2 Months Later~**

-"He doesn't know his own name?"

-"Or his parents' names. Or where he lives."

Olivia's second day back at work after two months of mandatory leave. She resented the way they all looked at her—the whispers, the stares—she knew they were wondering what she was thinking about, if she was okay. She also resented that after 15 years in SVU, she needed to prove that she could do her job. The Captain told her she could come back after 2 months, but then he'd sent her home early yesterday and today, hinted that he didn't think she could handle a lost kid. After 15 years. Olivia was disgusted.

-"He's young, what, seven? Eight?"

-"Doesn't know his birthday. Just says he wants to go home."

-"But he does speak English?"

-"He speaks, yeah. Something's off developmentally…"

Olivia and Nick had answered a call to Times Square, where a little boy had run up to a man in a Momo costume, clung on, and wouldn't let go. When he was finally forced to, he couldn't find his father anywhere. She smiled and approached the boy, determined to show Captain Cragen and the rest of the squad that she could still do her job and that in fact, getting her mind off of everything through work might be exactly what would prove best for her.

-"Hey there," she said, still smiling. The boy had thick dark hair and big, round dark eyes and looked a bit like Nick's son, she thought.

-"My name's Olivia. I'm here to help you—do you understand what I'm saying?" He nodded. He told her his name was Buddy and that his "Pa" ran away when the police came, but that was all she could get from him—no address. They brought him back to the station and sent him to be checked by a doctor.

-"Liv, a word?" The Captain was standing in the doorway of his office gesturing her over and Olivia sighed, not thinking she'd done or said anything to warrant the Captain trying to send her home. But then again, she didn't think so yesterday, either.

She followed him into his office, shutting the door quietly behind them.

-"Captain, I—"

-"Liv, I just wanted to apologize for this morning. I didn't mean to insinuate that I didn't think you could handle being here. I just wanted you to know, in light of the situation, that you shouldn't feel pressured to come back if you're not ready."

-"Captain! I think—"

-"And before you object, this isn't about me. It's about you. Only you can know what you're feeling up to physically and mentally, as well. I know you're ready to be back and I know you belong here, but you need to go easy on yourself to start. However, I'm going to step back and let you set your own limits, because only you can know what they are."

Olivia brightened. "Thank you for trusting me."

-"Anytime, Liv," he replied, and together, they made their way back out to the squadroom.

-"Alright team, what do we know?" The Captain called out, bringing everyone to order.

"Doc said he's a little underweight for his age, but other than that, everything's okay," Nick said, but Cragen frowned.

-"Alright, well, a confused kid with a man who fled the scene at the sight of cops probably isn't a good sign."

-"The guy in the Momo suit is downstairs giving a description to a sketch artist," Fin said, to which Rollins piped up that she was going to go interview with the kid.

-"Actually," said the Captain, "I think Detective Benson is going to take the interview." ~

-"Hey Buddy, what's that you're drawing?" she pointed to his picture.

-"It's Ma. And Auntie and Sissy. I live with them in House."

-"Can you tell me who you were with earlier?"

-"Pa. But he'll come back. He'll be mad," the boy tightened. "He goes sometimes, but he always comes back."

Olivia could feel her heart clenching in her chest as she got that familiar sense that something was very, very wrong here.

-"Where does Pa go?" she asked.

-"Don't ask. Be quiet. If you're quiet, you get ice cream," he replied. "Sissy taught me a trick to make the walks go faster…Count the cracks in the sidewalk. We count everything."

-"Buddy, when you went to see Momo today…did you count the cracks from House?" ~

-"Liv. Please. Just tell me what's wrong. We can talk about it, but you have to tell me." Olivia was staring out Brian's kitchen window holding a glass of wine and could she could almost palpably feel his concern. He thought she was thinking about the attack, she was sure of it.

-"Nothing, I'm fine." She felt him lay a hand on her shoulder and gently guide her into the living room and over to the sofa. "I told you, I'm fine."

-"Okay, fine. You're fine. Can you still come sit with me?" She couldn't turn down those boyish, pleading eyes, so she sat down on the sofa and rested her head against his chest. As always, she had to admit, it felt really, really nice. Brian draped his left arm over her shoulders and pulled her closer to him.

-"Liv, you're spacing on me."

-"He kidnapped her," Olivia murmured, playing with her hair and not meeting his eyes.

It could have been her, easily, handcuffed to a basement floor, presumed dead. Chained to a basement floor, while he, Lewis, could come and go as he pleased.

-"What? Kidnapped who? Who, Liv?"

-"He kidnapped her and locked her in a basement and raped her over and over again! Nobody looked for her…we let this happen and yet she trusted us?! Trusted him?!"

Olivia's thoughts were scattered, like torn pieces of images stuck haphazardly together in a child's magazine picture collage.

Olivia was in that basement, writhing against the shackles around her hands and feet as vodka spattered across her face, missing her closed mouth and stinging as it came into contact with the burns on her chest…

She drew her knees to her chin and caved to Brian holding her, kissing the top of her head and telling her how strong she was.

-"Rough case?" he asked. Olivia nodded, still not meeting his eye.

-"Something like that."

-"Want to talk about it?"

-"No, not really." Olivia picked up the remote off the coffee table, intending to see what was on TV, but then decided not to and set it back down again. Brian pulled her into his lap.

-"You know, I remember that was the hardest part for me when I worked SVU. How you're expected to put it out of your mind as soon as you close the case and move on to the next twisted thing…I know you don't want to hear it, but maybe talking about the case with your partner would help…well, maybe not him, but Fin, Rollins…they were right there with you."

-"No. They're finally starting to treat me normally again. I can't do anything to change that."

She frowned. She didn't mean to be so elusive. She'd talked with her doctor about this just the other day—how she was afraid her confusion, her spaciness, her distance, would drive Cassidy away. His advice had been to consider if staying on at SVU would be the best thing for her and quite frankly, she'd given it a lot of thought, too. She thought about putting in her papers now, as a hero, instead of risking staying her course and going crazy, like thousands of other cops had. But Lewis had taken so much from her—she wasn't going to let him take her dignity, too—no, Olivia leaving the force was exactly what he wanted. SVU was where she belonged, preventing what had happened to her from happening to anyone else. If she quit now, she'd be sending the message to thousands of victims that it was okay to give up.

-"You're spacing on me again, babe." Brian's hand on the small of her back broke her out of her reverie.

-"Sorry."

-"It's alright, I was just asking if talking to Elliot has helped any." Olivia yanked out of his embrace.

-"Elliot? Why would you even bring him up? Bri, I haven't seen or heard from Elliot in over two years!"

-"Do you really not remember when he came to the hospital to see you?" Brian asked, his features splashed with worry.

-"Elliot visited me in the hospital? No…No, he didn't."

-"Yeah, he was part of the team out looking for you. He was in my squad car when Amaro called me and told me they found you. He was the first one after me to visit you when you were in the ICU—" 

-"How would he have known?"

-"He knew because I called him."

-"And you never told me?!"

-"I figured he would!"

They stared in silence at each other for a few minutes after that, seated at opposite ends of the couch. Olivia almost dared him to try to come near her. How could he bring up Elliot to her and expect it not to hurt?!

-"Call him. Call him now and tell him to meet me at my place." Brian just looked at her.

-"Why don't you call him?" Olivia snatched her keys off the coffee table and stood up, making for the front door.

-"Because I want to have a head start." ~

Olivia decided to wait outside of her apartment building rather than go up. She'd never tell Brian, but she didn't think she could be alone in there, not yet. In fact, a pretty significant part of her doubted she'd ever be able to fully trust that place ever again, but she didn't want to think about that. Another part of her wondered if Brian Cassidy had even called Elliot or if Elliot would even come or if this whole thing wasn't just an enormous hoax from the beginning.

But she knew that it wasn't. And she knew Brian had called him, and she knew that he would come.

She was leaning against her car door when she saw him walking up the sidewalk and she was relieved to see that he looked about exactly the same as when she'd last seen him two years ago…though the observation did sadden her somewhat—he'd clearly been perfectly okay for two years without her…but her? Look how much she'd changed…

-"Stabler!" she called and then those broad, muscular shoulders were directly in front of her, those blue eyes poring into her own brown ones as he leaned in for a hug.

Olivia took a step back, watching him, absorbing him, half-tempted to reach out a hand and brush it against his jaw just to see if he was real. But she held herself back.

-"Everything alright, Liv?" It was without a doubt the worst thing he could have said. Driving over from Brian's, she'd had time to prepare herself for anything that might possibly come out of mouth—for his apologies, his expressions of sympathy and understanding, his anger with Lewis—even anger with her for not doing things differently, his pleadings for her friendship, his laundry list of excuses, even a statement that he didn't care about her at all…but this…this was beyond anything she could have foreseen. So impersonal, so forced, so…painfully indicative that he didn't know her as he used to, if he had ever known her at all.

-"Alright, El? You're standing here, asking me if I'm alright?"

-"Yeah, Cassidy told me you—"

-"Cassidy told you? Just like Cassidy had to tell you what happened to me? Just like Cassidy had to tell you to come to the hospital, had to tell you to come in and see me because it looks like he –knew- you wouldn't do that on your own," she hissed.

-"Liv, I—"

-"I'm not done. And Cassidy had to tell –me- that you were there, you, my former partner and best friend, who I shared twelve years of my life with, who spent more time with you than your wife even could, how you were there and didn't even have the balls to say anything to me. Just like Cragen had to tell me two years ago that you left and were never coming back—because you didn't have the balls to tell me then, either. And now you're here, asking me if I'm alright?"

The night was still and quiet, save for the faint whisperings of the last few crickets of a summer rapidly fading into fall. A siren in the distance. Louder now. Softer again.

It was a new moon, so the parking lot was mainly dark save for Elliot's silhouette in front of her. As much as she resented her instinct to do so, she found herself standing much closer to Elliot than she'd intended, knowing that no one would dare hurt her with him right there. Maybe she resented needing him there.

-"Olivia, I'm sorry," he said finally and that was it. More silence.

-"That's it? You really have nothing else to say to me?"

-"Liv, what do you want me to say? That I wish I hadn't left SVU? Come on, my leaving SVU was what was best for everyone. My wife, my kids, the squad—"

-"What about me, Elliot?! Did you ever once stop and think about me? No call, no text, nothing. For two years!" He softened his gaze and for a moment there looked so pitiable that she had to fight back the tears she'd been holding in since that day Cragen told her that she was getting a new partner.

-"Olivia…For the last two years, not a single day has gone by that I haven't thought about you. I can't even go and get a cup of coffee without thinking about you and early mornings in the squad car picking you up before work. I think about from the minute I wake up until the minute I fall asleep at night so how dare you imply that I don't care or that I forgot about you!"

She wanted to believe him. She wanted to swallow up every word that he said and then sit up on her porch talking for hours, talking until they could barely keep their eyes open, just like the old days. But she couldn't do that.

-"But at least you can sleep at night," she murmured. "At least you don't wake up, trying to hide the fact that you're shaking from nightmares that felt so real that you have to turn on the lights and check your own wrists for restraint marks to make sure they're not."

-"You don't know what I wake up thinking." Olivia shook her head.

-"Nothing you say can justify what you did, Elliot."

-"Then what can I do?"

-"Tell me, why didn't you talk to me? Didn't I deserve that much? Don't I now?" Elliot reached forward and lightly took her wrist in his hand. She didn't pull away.

-"Maybe…Maybe it hurt too much."

She looked at him, looked into those sweet blue eyes and wanted to fall into them, but she knew he wasn't here, not really. He was here only until he walked away again.

-"So why did you come to the hospital?"

-"I was worried about you. I needed to see for myself that you were okay." She wrenched her wrist out of his hand.

-"You wanted to make sure that I was okay? Just like now, right? You show up, give me a once-over, see that I'm alive and that's…that qualifies as okay?!" She was practically screaming now. "You spent 12 years telling people that some wounds can't be seen with the eye and now you're telling me that in one glance-over, you can tell me I'm okay?!"

-"Liv…I…"

-"Forget it, Elliot."

-"What do I need to do to get you to trust me again?"

-"Leave. Turn around, walk away, and go back to that little world you've been living in for the last two years where I don't exist and everything's always okay." She could hear her voice faltering. He needed to be gone, now, before she lost control and broke down completely.

-"Liv! Olivia!" He reached for her hand again, but she wasn't having it.

-"Go to hell, Stabler!" she snarled and got back into her car, slamming the door with enough force to make her whole world shatter. And it did. As soon as she could see him in the rearview mirror with his back turned, walking away from her, again, she could feel the world shifting, shifting wildly out of her own control, just out of reach of ever being right again.


	5. Chapter 5: Monsters Under the Bed

**Waiting For Superman Chapter 5: Monsters Under the Bed**

**Author's Note: We are now immersed in my original content and I have a long chapter here for y'all! I hope you could stand putting up with some content from the show earlier in the story. I wanted to set a framework so my stuff would seem more plausible/realistic. I'm not going to reveal yet if this story is an E/O story or a Bensidy story because at this point, much of the story centers around Olivia not even being sure. So I guess you'll just have to wait and find out :P In the meantime, you'll see some of both. As always, follow, favorite or review!**

**~platarozaluna**

-"Liv! Liv…you have got to get up, it's time for you to go to work…" Brian Cassidy couldn't help but be amused at his girlfriend's attempt to shield herself from the morning by pulling the blankets up around herself and curling into a little ball. "What are we, a pillbug now? You've got to get up, babe, I'm sorry…" Olivia groaned in response. He saw a hand then snake out from her blanket cave, a hand which latched around his arm and proceeded to try to pull him back into his bed.

-"Hey Liv, I'm sorry. I want to get back in bed with you, I really do, but I'm already dressed and ready to leave. I have to go to work and so do you." Another groan. It wasn't like her. Usually, their roles were reversed and she was up and raring to go for work, standing over his sleeping form promising him cup after cup of coffee, which to drink, she knew, would require him to be at the very least, in a sitting position.

She'd had a rough night though, he reasoned. She'd come back to his apartment from presumably a conversation with Elliot, visibly shaken and upset even though she told him repeatedly that she didn't want to or need to talk about it. She'd just said she was very tired and wanted to go to bed, but then she was up three times with nightmares. He prodded her shoulder one more time.

-"Listen, I know you're tired and you need your sleep, but if you get up for me right now, I promise we'll go to bed early tonight, okay? Maybe watch a movie?" No response. "Hey, I'll tell you what, I'm going to go out to the kitchen and make you some breakfast. You sleep for another few minutes and then do you think you could get up for some scrambled eggs?" Olivia murmured something in a tone that sounded agreeable, so Brian gave her shoulder a small squeeze and left her to the remainder of her sleep.

Out in the kitchen, he heated a frying pan on the stove and opened his fridge to look for some eggs and cheese. That was when he heard it…a small, faint sound that almost sounded like a cat crying. Then, he heard it again.

-"Bri…" Olivia was calling him. He shut the fridge and headed back into the bedroom where Olivia had tossed off the pile of blankets and was halfway out of bed. Another nightmare? Already?

-"Hey you," he said, sitting down on the edge of the bed and pulling her into his arms. She was pale and shaking.

-"Bri, I really don't feel so well…could you…I'm sorry." She cocked her head in the direction of the bathroom door. Realizing what she meant, he scooped her into his arms and carried her into the bathroom while she murmured over and over again that she was sorry.

-"It's okay, Liv, really. I don't mind. It's okay to let somebody take care of you." He pulled her hair back and held it while she got sick. It hurt him to see her like this, so weak and helpless whether she realized it or not. He wasn't a fan of her partner, Nick Amaro. Never liked the guy and never would—guy would be better off as a beat cop. If he had only checked on his partner, maybe they could have gotten her away from Lewis before it was too late. If he, Cassidy, had only gotten to her and been there for her in time…if only he hadn't canceled their dinner plans that night…

Olivia got sick again, jolting him back to the here and now. She got sick, but nothing came up.

-"I don't think there's anything left in your stomach, babe," he said softly. Olivia nodded and, breathing heavily, leaned back into him.

-"I feel a little better now, I'd better get ready for work."

-"*Now* she wants to go into work…" Cassidy chuckled and kissed the top of her head through her hair. "No, I'm gonna call Cragen and tell him you're sick and you need a day—"

-"No! Please don't! I'm fine! See?" As if to prove her point, Olivia stood up, holding onto the sink for support. Cassidy stood up, too, and took her hands in his.

-"I know you're fine. You're fine because you're my superwoman, but you're tired, right?" She nodded. "You're tired and you don't feel your best, so maybe, just maybe, if you stay here and rest today, you can keep whatever this little bug is from getting any worse," he explained. She didn't say anything right away, as she seemed to be at least considering what he said, and then, finally, to his surprise, she nodded in agreement again.

He helped her back into bed and allowed himself to sit with her a minute. He wished he could stay there holding her all day, but his boss down at the Bronx courthouse had already been lenient enough with him for the time he'd taken off to be with Olivia.

-"I need to go into work, but I promise you I'll try to leave early so we can watch a movie. I'll even bring back dinner—what do you think you'll want?"

-"Surprise me," she whispered as she drifted off back to sleep. He felt terrible leaving her—what if she got sick again, or woke up with a nightmare or just needed him to be there—no. He couldn't think like that or he'd go crazy. Liv was a grown woman, an adult. She wasn't a helpless victim and she was more than capable of taking care of herself. He couldn't help but think, though—the last time she missed work to stay by herself, she'd been—no…it wasn't her fault. It could have happened to anyone, but just because it happened to her, didn't mean it was going to happen again.

-"I'll be back early, I promise," he reiterated, more for his own benefit than hers.

Wednesday afternoon at the Bronx courthouse could not have gone by any more slowly for Cassidy, who just wanted to be home with Olivia. He'd spent thirteen years loving her, and then, so soon after he finally got to be with her, the assault had happened and he, if it was even possible, now valued his time with her even more.

When he got home that evening, a few hours earlier than normal, as promised and holding a bag of Chinese takeout in each hand, he was surprised to find Olivia not only up and about, but standing at his kitchen sink washing dishes.

He dropped the takeout on the counter and wrapped Olivia in an embrace from behind, an act which earned him a face full of soap suds.

-"Things of which I never thought I'd see the day—Olivia Benson doing dishes."

-"Well then, if that's shocking, wait until you hear what else I did today?" He feigned a moment of thought.

-"Umm…I don't know, I give up."

-"I went to the grocery store and then, I cooked! And before you say it, no, nothing instant. A whole cake, completely from scratch." She pointed to a rounded shape buried under a heap of tin foil. "German chocolate cake. One of very few things my mother was exceptional at making—same thing, every holiday and every birthday that she remembered. And I –never- minded it because it was that good."

-"Wow Liv, but what's the occasion?" She nudged him playfully in the ribs.

-"Oh, nothing _too _special, just you, takin' care of me…"

-"Aw, well thank you, but you didn't have to—"

-"No, but I wanted to."

In this moment, he realized he loved her. He loved her in every capacity that a human being could love another…the way her eyes sometimes sparkled when she talked and sometimes burned with passion, the way her dark hair perfectly framed her face; the way she rolled into him in the night while she slept, the indentations of their bodies fitting like pieces of a perfect puzzle—and moments like this, when he imagined them in a grander scale, as if these moments were mirrors of every day of the rest of his life.

He wanted them to do it right there in the kitchen, after they'd try and fail to make it to the bedroom. But he didn't want to be disrespectful. They'd only had sex once in the two months that had elapsed since the assault and even then, though she'd insisted that he finish despite her inability, and assured him a thousand times that really, nothing was wrong and she was just a little tired, he could see it in her eyes—that haunted glaze, the pain—and he'd pulled out and mentally vowed that he didn't want to put her through anything she wasn't ready for. She would come to him in her own time. Besides, he was supposed to be taking care of her.

-"How are you feeling?" he asked.

-"Will you believe me if I say completely fine? It must have just been a little 24-hour bug or something I ate yesterday. I went back to sleep for a few hours, woke up good as me." _It's probably stress,_ Cassidy wanted to add, but instead, he asked:

-"Have you gotten sick at all since I left?"

-"Not at all, which is unfortunate for you, seeing as you probably thought if I still didn't feel well, you'd get all that to yourself." She pointed to the two China Garden bags behind him.

-"Oh, you see that, do you?"

-"Yeah, I see it…I see it…annnnd…" She snatched one of the bags off the counter. "…I'm takin' it." Cassidy helped himself to the other bag and looked into it. He waited until he had a head start to the living room couch before calling back to her.

-"Have fun with all that rice and duck sauce, Liv. If you want spring rolls or Lo Mein, you're gonna have to come for it." He grabbed a plastic fork out of the bag and dug into the Lo Mein.

-"I believe, Officer Cassidy, that that…" said Olivia, sauntering up behind the couch. "…is what she said."

Cassidy reached up and pulled her over the couch and into his lap, somehow managing not to spill his food in the process.

Then, he was kissing every part of her that he could reasonably access and to his delight, she didn't look afraid. Instead, she looked how he felt—comfortable and content, her eyes closed and her own kisses light and breathy against his chest, shoulder, neck, jaw…and finally, closing around his lips.

-"Maybe we shouldn't watch a movie," she whispered.

-"Yeah, babe? What do you wanna do instead?"

-"I was thinking…maybe we could just go to bed early, like you promised me this morning."

-"You sure?" he asked, pressing her against him to make sure this was really what she wanted and he wasn't reading her signals wrong. In response, Olivia wrapped her legs around his waist and squeezed.

-"Well, officer, depends on how busy you are, because I….need a ride." His eyes locked with hers and he stood up, using one hand to support her, still straddled around his waist. "You want this, I know you do." Her words seemed to slither out of her mouth as she reached out and put her hand around his member.

-"Liv, relax. Don't feel like you need to—" She let go and stood up, letting both feet plant firmly on the floor and then she grabbed his wrist and began pulling him in the direction of his bedroom.

-"What? Don't have to what?" she snapped. "What, you think raped women can't have any libido? You think raped women can't be dominant sexual actors, because they're just compliant, aren't they? They let things happen to them. They're compliant and weak and—" She opened the door and pushed him onto the bed. Something had changed inside of her. Where before she'd been playful, she was now dark and empty. He knew that her feeling was gone and she was trying to mask it by going into cop mode, but he didn't want that for her. He didn't want her to have sex again until she felt like she was in a trusting and loving environment, not only physically, which he hoped he provided, but mentally as well; a state of being that would reflect her own progress in healing.

-"Babe, calm down. It's okay, how about we watch a movie first, like we were going to. It's okay, we got time, we—"

-"Don't you dare tell me what to do, Cassidy! No one has the right to take away my dignity in the bedroom. Not William Lewis, and certainly not you!"

Cassidy looked at her. He wanted to stop her from doing this, but she did have a point. And he wasn't going to pretend that he wasn't turned on albeit also significantly disturbed. But maybe this was something she needed to do.

-"Alright, you're in charge." He folded his hands behind his head, laid back and surrendered to her.

She looped a finger through the belt loop of his jeans and yanked them down. Then, she reached into his boxers and found what she was looking for—never breaking eye contact.

-"My mother used to tell me not to pick things up and put them in my mouth…"

…Her lips locked around him and she went at it with such a harried forcefulness that he was worried he wasn't going to last as long as maybe she'd anticipated. But she went faster. He felt warm and cold and anxious and calm all at once. Faster. His heart was beating uncontrollably. Faster. But really, this was how he'd always felt around her—like he was holding back until he nearly spilled in on himself. Faster. Every instinct inside of him was screaming at him to let go. Faster. A bead of sweat he hadn't noticed rolled off his jaw and splashed onto his chest. Fa…she stopped. Froze. Looking at him with wide eyes until suddenly, she slipped off of him and took off for the bathroom, after which he heard her getting sick again.

He pulled up his boxers and followed her into the bathroom. She was sitting on the floor with her back against the wall, so he knelt down and put an arm around her.

-"I'm sorry, Bri, I'm so sorry…"

-"It's okay, Liv. Do you feel sick again?" She nodded.

-"A little. Is it okay if we just…go to sleep tonight?"

-"Yeah, it's okay." He picked her up and carried her out to bed. "But you know what?" he prompted.

-"What?"

-"Maybe you should go see your doctor tomorrow and find out what's up." Olivia pulled the blankets over to her side of the bed, but then gestured for him to get in and spoon against her.

-"Yeah, I think I will. Then hopefully I'll get the okay to go into work, because knowing Cragen, he won't let me back without it."

-"Olivia?" the doctor asked. Her name was Doctor Sally Andrews and she'd been Olivia's doctor for a few years back before she switched offices. This morning, Olivia had sought her and gone back to her because as far as she knew, Dr. Andrews knew nothing about the assault. She wanted to be treated as a patient, not as a rape victim.

-"Yes?"

-"When was your last menstrual period?"

-"My…my gynecologist said since I've been under a lot of stress from…different things, and since I'm pre-menopausal, it might be a few months before—"

-"But –when- was your last period?" Olivia frowned, thinking back.

-"Umm…about 2 and a half months ago."

-"Okay," the doctor said softly. "Is there a chance you could be pregnant?"

-"I haven't really been…"Olivia trailed off. No. It couldn't be. It wasn't happening. They hadn't recovered any condoms from the scene. She'd had his DNA inside of her. But she couldn't be pregnant, women always –knew- when they were pregnant, didn't they?

-"Olivia?"

-"Yes. There might be a chance." Dr. Andrews handed her a clear plastic cup.

-"The restroom is down the hall and to the left. I'm going to need you to take a urine pregnancy test."

Olivia drove home from the doctor's office with one hand over her stomach. Over the thing inside of her that was making her sick. She felt numb all over. The doctor had given her a prescription for a medication to alleviate the morning sickness and sent her on her way with a reminder to make an appointment with an OB-GYN. Oh, that, and a congratulations. Like she'd been trying for this, like this was some sort of victory for her. No one asked her if she wanted or intended to keep it. It was like it was a given that she would.

Hell, Olivia never thought she'd see that day that she'd even have to ask herself that question. She'd always wanted to be a mother and her biological clock was rapidly ticking. Some might see this as a blessing, really. But she…no. Would she feel this was if it were Brian Cassidy's baby inside of her? No, she wouldn't. She'd be happy…overjoyed…thrilled…but she knew that it wasn't. She could wish it was, she could pretend it was…but that was impossible given the time frame. It wasn't his. Lewis was the father of this thing.

It wasn't being pregnant that bothered her. It was knowing that she'd see his face, flashback to the attack, every time she felt this thing squirm around inside of her. How could it be possible that it would be human, given who its father was? No baby deserved to be born to a mother who would never see it as an innocent child.

-"Hey Liv, how was work?" Cassidy sat down next to her on the couch and handed her a cup of tea. She took a sip, but didn't meet his eye.

-"I didn't go in. I had to pick up a prescription, but I should be fine to go into work tomorrow."

-"Prescription? What did the doctor say?"

-"Just a little stomach bug. Should be fully out of my system by the end of the week." _When the medicine kicked in. _She almost wished it would be so easy to flush this thing out of her system…but it was. And she could do it. And no one would fault her for it—how could they?

She felt her cheeks burn as she lied to her boyfriend. But she couldn't tell him. She wouldn't. She wouldn't tell anyone and then she could…no. She couldn't get rid of it. She herself knew better than anyone on the squad that a baby could be born to a rapist and not go on to be a rapist. She and her brother Simon stood testament to that—they, as would be the case with this baby, never knew their father. It wouldn't have to know who its father was until it was old enough to understand and not resent itself—did such an age exist?

Brian was saying something to her, but she couldn't hear him.

_Lewis was looking up at her from his position on the floor, cuffed to the bed. _

_ -"Call me what you want, but I can always smell a victim. Was it something daddy did to you? Why don't I talk about my daddy…"_


End file.
